Say You Won't Let Go - Broken Oliver Queen
by HailHydra003
Summary: Oliver Queen returns to Starling City. He's broken.. after five years of torture, he must now learn how to be himself again.. for the sake of his family, but its not what Oliver wants. Ollie has a hard time coping with the death of his father, the torture, and secrets he has, will he be saved before he tries to kill himself?
1. Chapter 1

Five years. He spent five years enduring physical, and mental pain. Sometimes, he had wished that it was him who died rather than his father. Oliver Queen, was broken. The day he had been found, was the day he had thought would never come. Oliver didn't fancy how the city was, with cars everywhere, people everywhere, new things to do, just the technology in general, it all confused him.

Waking up in a hospital bed, Oliver winced, not yet understanding how much pain his body had endured the day before he was found. His heart rate began to spike, the machine's beeps began to quicken, and hospital staff were alerted to it. The door to Oliver's room swung open as a nurse rushed over to him, "Hey! It's alright, relax." Oliver blinked a few times, brows furrowed in confusion, "Where? Where am I?" His heart rate stayed constant, still rapidly beating. The woman called for a doctor to come and help her assess the situation, "Starling City. Look Oliver, you're safe, you're home."

Home? Oliver Queen couldn't be home... no, he was just on the island! "I can't be home. No—I was just on the island!" He hadn't meant to raise his voice, he just couldn't help it, he felt scared... vulnerable. Oliver acted quickly; swinging his legs to the side of the bed, he stood, stumbling a bit before he looked around, eyes full of fear. Then he ran.

Sprinting down the hospital hall, Oliver looked around, nearly panting with anxiety. Oliver Queen, was confined, confused, and half naked. His scarred upper body visible to all as he ran around. Seeing himself in mirrors did no good. His hair was trimmed short, his beard reduced like his hair, and the scars, all reminded him that he was not what everyone would expect, "Ollie?" A quiet, gasping voice caught the archer's attention: Thea, her eyes wide, and mouth agape as she transfixed her eyes on her brother. Sitting beside his sister, Moira, her own blue eyes fixating on Oliver's.

"There!" A man yelled out, pointing to Oliver as security guards walked into the hospital, greeted by hospital staff. The archer ran again, only to stop. He was cornered, "Oliver! Calm down. It's alright." The stern voice of a guard sounded behind him, then a hand was on his shoulder. Acting out of pure defense, Oliver grabbed the man's hand, swept his legs out from underneath him, and flipped him, slamming him into the ground, "Ollie!" Thea rounded the corner, and stopped, Moira beside her as they pleaded the guards to walk away, that they could calm him down, but the guards disregarded that.

Slowly advancing towards the archer, two more men warily observed the troubled man. They got too close. Oliver kicked one's knees in, grabbed the other's neck, flipped him onto the other man, hands shaking now, "Stop!" Moira shouted, gaining her son's attention, "Oliver... I'm sorry." After a few moments of silence, Oliver's posture relaxed more, his breathing slowing down, heart rate decreasing. Oliver hadn't meant to hurt them, nor did he expect to have an outburst like that. Hospital staff stared at him, stricken with fear, families of patients, wide-eyed as they witnessed Oliver Queen, Prince of Starling City, break down.

Falling to his knees, Oliver let himself close his eyes, a dry sob escaping his lips. It had been so long since he had been in a hospital, too long. Oliver couldn't help but feel threatened by all the people, he was surprised that none tried to hurt him. The island changed him, made him weaker, and made him stronger. A single teardrop streaked down the left side of his face, his hands still shaking as he opened his blue eyes, staring at the three unconscious guards lying around him, and for once, his desperate, weak voice finally stated something, "I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver had changed so much. Thea couldn't believe he wasn't acting snarky, or cocky... he was acting hurt, lost. She thought harder; he was broken. The sight of Oliver on his knees, crying, made Thea angry. Someone must have done this, Oliver couldn't have broken all by himself... could he? Oliver slowly looked up, his sorrowful eyes meeting with Thea's. The archer couldn't help but think about if she was scared, or what she had thought of him now that he had taken down three guards. But Thea had a different look on her face, she wasn't scared... she was sympathetic, "Ollie?"

"No, Thea." Moira grabbed Thea's wrist, not wanting her daughter to approach Oliver. She didn't want to risk her son harming her daughter. After seeing what he did to the guards, Moira was cautious. Oliver's jaw tightened, his mother was afraid of him. He didn't blame her, he knew he looked different, that he was different; the island changed him, more than anyone would suspect. Thea didn't care, she yanked her arm away from her mother's grip, and stepped over the unconscious guards, crouching in front her brother, gently grasping his hands in hers, "It's okay now. You're okay... right?"

Oliver had wished that he was okay, but he wasn't. All that the archer could think about was the torture, how he had gained all his scars, and his fight for survival. Oliver killed people, and he couldn't forget that, and he couldn't forget how he vowed to protect his city once he returned. Thea's soft hands felt foreign on his rough, shaky ones, "Th—Thea?" His sister's attention easily was focused on him, "Yeah Ollie, it's me." Moira warily watched as Oliver pulled Thea closer to him, hugging her now, his eyes closed as he let another stray tear streak down his face, "I'm sorry Thea... I didn't mean to hurt anyone." His words made Thea sniffle, her arms wrapped tightly around her brother, "I missed you so much Ollie."

A part of Moira told her to be afraid of her son, and made her think he was a stranger, but the other, made her weep for him, he had changed, and whatever changed him, was something very wrong. Working her way around the unconscious bodies, heels clicking on the tiled floor. Setting her hand on Oliver's shoulder, "Let's get you home Oliver." Thea's grip loosened on her brother as she got up, helping him to his feet, her hand entwined with his, keeping him calm as they left to get Oliver checked out, he needed to be home, not confined in a hospital room.

"Ma'am, there's no easy way to say this, but your son endured something that none of us could. It's still affecting him." Moira opened her mouth to object, but the doctor continued, "The scars on his body, aren't self-inflicted, someone hurt your son. He wasn't alone on the island he was stranded on." Moira wept for her son, "So you're saying someone tortured him?" Oliver, he beloved son, tortured? By who? Sighing, the doctor handed Moira papers, "Yes. Everything we know is here. The fishermen who rescued him, asked him these questions. As for how he acted out today when he woke up, he has high stress levels, and the other doctors informed me that they've concluded that he has a high probability for PTSD, but it isn't guaranteed. You'll have to watch out for anything like the event that happened today." Moira shakily went through the file, skimming the questions, and shutting it, "So he can come home today?" She couldn't help but speak feebly, she wanted her son home, she wanted him to know that he was safe. He chuckled, "Yes, Mrs. Queen, you can take Oliver home. Just, take these with you, they should help with his stress, and should prevent depression." Two bottles, one for his stress, the others anti-depressants.

"Ollie, are you ready to go home?" Thea softly murmured into her brother's neck, hugging him again. Home... the big mansion, his old room. His friends, Tommy... Laurel. He shook his head, the archer didn't want to face Laurel, her sister was dead because of him. His father was dead because of him, "Yes..." Pulling away from her brother, Thea wiped her face, ridding it of her tears as she rubbed Oliver's back, which was thankfully clothed now. Moira now making her way to them, holding the file that the doctor gave to her, "It's time we go now."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oliver!" Various reporters' voices shouted as soon as the Queens walked out of the hospital doors, "Mr. Queen!". None hesitated to wonder if it was even alright to do what they were doing. All they wanted was to know what happened to him for five years, and how he was stranded in the first place. Moira clearly upset that the reporters and photographers were swarming them. Her brows angled as she yelled at them to move aside. For Oliver, Thea stayed beside him, her hand still holding his, his grip on her petite hands, strong, as if he was afraid of losing her again.

It was too much. As soon as Oliver was in the vehicle transporting him, Thea, and his mother to their house, the archer clenched his fists, memories flooding his head. _The time he was captured, by the man who told him he needed to survive... the times Slade cut into his flesh. His father shooting his friend, then himself, leaving Oliver to fend for himself. The first scar he got, the arrow buried into his flesh._ Exhaling sharply, Oliver looked around, his blue eyes adjusting to his surroundings. He hadn't even noticed that the vehicle was turning into their property, the large mansion coming into view now. Oliver was home, but it didn't feel like he was home.

"Oliver." The archer didn't acknowledge the voice, he was just staring out of the car window, transfixed and focused in his own little moment. Oliver didn't like it. He didn't like being home, where he couldn't see his father again. A place that was all too big, that he could hardly remember had to locate certain areas of the house. "I don't belong here... this isn't home," murmuring to himself, Ollie inclined his head, his blue gaze now focused on his hands, "Oliver?" Thea, Oliver didn't understand why he only listened to her, or why he only acknowledged what she had to say. She was calmer around him, despite being worried, and sad. Moira seemed to have an odd feeling when he was around her, she was afraid of him, yet sad for him. Oliver couldn't quite read her like he could with Thea, "Sorry." As the archer stepped out of the car, he refrained from reaching out for Thea's hand. He was safe now, he was home.

The mansion was... bigger than Oliver had remembered. But it was also familiar. He remembered having parties here, having friends over, being idiotic. Perhaps that's what he needed? Oliver thought about it, if he could show everyone he was alright, that he was still Oliver, maybe it'd be better. Moira beckoned her son to follow her up the stairs, "Your room is the same. I never had the nerve to change it... I hope that's okay." Oliver bit the inside of his lip; his room? He'd finally have a bed to lay on, blankets, privacy... comfort. As the door opened to the archer's room, Oliver looked around, things had just started to become more familiar, "Thanks, mom." Moira's eyes lit up, her son had finally spoken to her. Hugging Oliver briefly, Moira kissed his cheek, "If you need anything, I'll be here all day."

Setting his wooden box onto the base of his bed, Oliver unlocked it, lifting the lid slightly as he made sure his belongings still resided there. With his bow, and a green hood, Oliver would be able to help the city, his father gave him a list and told his son to undo his wrongs, to make them right. The archer would have to lie, he'd have to make everyone think he's the normal Ollie by day, and at night, he'd try to get away to do his mission, Starling City needed Oliver Queen, more than anyone would ever know. But for now, he'd take the time to get situated, then, he'd make it his priority to contact Tommy Merlyn. If anyone knew how to help Oliver around the city, to catch up on things, it'd be his best friend.


	4. Chapter 4

**( Sorry for not updating with any other chapters, a lot has started to happen in my life. Mainly death, but it's chill now, I'll be updating this as much as I can from now on, because y'all seem to like it so much! Sorry if my style is different, it may be rocky until I get the hang of it again! )**

It had been a week since Oliver returned, a week since he's tried to fit in more. The day after he returned, Moira hosted a party for Ollie; granted Oliver was still... distant, he tried his best to seem like he was alright. Thea had watched her brother most of the time, making sure he didn't seem stressed or worried, she didn't want him to end up hurt, or for something like the hospital incident happening.

Deep in thought, Oliver sat in front of the window in his room, his blue eyes seemingly distant. Tommy had welcomed him home, he was happy to see his friend, but Oliver wasn't sure of it. Tommy wanted to go to clubs, hook up with girls, but the archer didn't think he could do that. After he lost Sara, Oliver didn't feel like having sex with anyone, he didn't want to get attached to anyone, or to be a burden to someone. He hardly had the balls to think about approaching Laurel and apologizing for cheating on her with her sister; then of course for the fact that her sister was gone now. If not for the soft knock on his door, Oliver would have gotten deep into his thoughts, and those thoughts were the thoughts that would send him back to a hospital.

"Ollie?" Thea, of course. She always went out of her way to visit the archer, she seemed way too worried. Like she'd lose Oliver again. He didn't blame her, he was gone for five years. Oliver quickly moved to grab a shirt and slip it on, but Thea was faster, "Speedy..." His sister's eyes watered as she lifted a hand ever so slowly to Oliver's back, barely letting the tips of her fingers trace the various scars as if he was made or porcelain, "Oliver? What happened?" Should he lie? Or should he be blunt? Ollie hadn't a clue on what to say, his voice was small, silent; emotionless, "I wasn't alone on the island. There were... others. I had to do things to survive; it was kill or be killed... survival of the fittest."

The archer turned around, his head inclined as he looked at his sister's hands trembling as she barely traced the scars on his chest, "Who? Who would hurt you like this... it's not fair!" Oliver shook his head, "Life isn't fair Thea. It's not supposed to be." Stepping back, Oliver pulled the shirt over his head and sighed, "Do you know anything about Laurel? I mean, lately? Where she works? I have to apologize to her for the Gambit." The archer watched as his sister sniffled, "I'll have to call her. She really didn't want to deal with our family after she had lost you and Sara." Ollie had suspected that, after all, he couldn't blame her, it was his fault that his father had died, most importantly, his fault that Sara was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**( WARNING: this chapter contains self-harm, please read at YOUR OWN RISK. It isn't that descriptive, but it may be disturbing to some. If you do self-harm, please reach out to anyone, even a crisis line! )**

He could only imagine what Thea and Laurel were talking about. Thea's voice quavered as she protested things Laurel claimed and said. Obviously, she wasn't happy about Oliver's return. The archer's brows furrowed as he looked down, eyeing the palms of his hands, then his wrists. Ollie swore to right his father's wrongs, but wouldn't he himself, be considering a wrong? Oliver had been the cause of his father's death, Sara being gone, and the reason why other people on the island had... issues. Maybe as he fulfilled his father's dying wish by eliminating those on the list, he could add a mark to himself, hurt himself, each time he succeeded, and add three times as many if he had failed?

Once again, the only thing taking him out of his thoughts, was Thea's voice, "Laurel said she didn't... she doesn't feel up to talking to you. I tried to convince her that it was best for her to listen to what you wanted to say, but she ignored it. She said that you couldn't have changed, that you'd be out screwing around with girls soon enough. I'm sorry Ollie." Of course, the archer had known Laurel would be furious, mad, he knew she'd hold a grudge. After all, he was going to have sex with her sister, Sara, but then the storm; he had lost her, and at the same time, he knew he had lost Laurel. Even if he apologized, she'd never forgive him for doing what he did.

Later that day, Oliver decided to make amends to himself. He could add a handful of marks to either arm, maybe both, in honor of those that died that day, and during the times on his island. The archer wouldn't go too deep, but deep enough to draw a sufficient amount of blood. So Oliver decided to head to his room and close the door; a simple metallic blade in his hand as he walked to his window, and looked out of it as the blade made contact with his skin. Ollie knew he deserved it, he had to; people died because of him! He was a monster! And in order to get rid of the monster, it was necessary to mark himself, and after his last kill on the list, to end himself and leave Starling City, to give them a new chance without the horrible people.

He had been so blind, Oliver had slashed two semi-deep cuts on both arms, he had been lucky to only nick one of his veins. Perhaps it he had closed the window curtains, he would have been safer, but as a car pulled up, the people inside all looked up, out of natural human curiosity, and watched in horror as a third cut was added to each arm, the blade now soaked with blood; and then, he stumbled... his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell to the floor.

"Oliver!" Moira knocked on her son's door. After the guests had witnessed it, they fled to Moira, spilling it all on her like a movie, describing it. It was hard to believe that the Lance family decided to even visit. Merlyn and his son Tommy had also tagged along, which meant that four people, all close friends, witness Oliver hurting himself, destroying the monster believed he was. Another knock on the archer's door, this time, louder, it was Quentin, "Oliver Queen, so help me god, you'd better be alive!" The door swung open, and people rushed into the room; Moira was first to reach her son's body, "Oh Oliver, my baby, please—no. Please stay with me. I can't lose you." Quentin was behind her, dialing the police. Laurel was holding Thea as they cried into each other's embrace, and Tommy was beside Moira, his brown eyes filled with fear; Malcom was the only guest who wasn't in the room.


End file.
